The Ever Long Lawn
by Mr. Miagi's Banana Factory
Summary: Ch 4 up! Harry works as the Malfoy's maid, and must survive through, inscessant music, scary dance rituals, and the erotic Malfoy family.
1. Making the Maid

Howdy y'all! How you guys doin, eh? Anywho, as you should know, this be a Harry Potter fic, which, by all means, defies the rules of all Harry Potterness. Not that this matters, cuz all them damn romance fic writers do the same thing, so you can't condemn us, ya horny peoples! Sorry, gotta friend who's this Hermione/Harry groupie, and it pisses the shit out of me. Nows then, just because we gotta do this here diclaimin thingie, cuz if we don't, God will smite us and destroy our new tractor. So, yeah, we don't own anything. There you goes, ya happy now? ARE YOU?!! Oh, and to address the whole 'we' thing... yeah, this is a co work between the great god Miagi, and vice god Hoochieman, the founders of Mr. Miagi's Banana Factory, and the religion Miagiism. Yes, we've got our own religion, and, other than ourselves, have 5 members! Whoa yeah! It tooks ourselves many many weeks to round up them worshippers, which don't make sense cuz, I mean, who wouldn't want to worship us?! Sure, we're a bit tyrannical, will only let you have one minute of free time a week (use this wisely to eat, sleep, pee, or play Playstation), and we force everyone to give us gifts, like cars, bunches of money, a new yacht, and little things of the sort, but still! Yous get to feel the enlightening stuff that we offer, the gift of giving to a greater cause!... Nows that I thinks of it, none o dem members have actually given us anythin yet... whatever. Mm, forgot to mentions, yes, the two of us comes from hic town, which is probably is the most biggest inspiration for this here thinger majig. So then, movin on to the fic (considerin nobody reads this here part anyway). Oh, and I'lls try to use them fancy proper English lingo through the thing cuz I ain't sure any of you's be to thrilled if I wrote the way we normally talk. Yes, we know we are great and wonderful. It's about time you knew too.

Harry woke up to the sound of an alarm clock one fine morning. He got up and looked around the mobile trailer he now lived in, searching for his glasses. Once he had found them, he got up and went to the mini fridge in the other room, which didn't exactly work anymore, but was good for storing potato chips and stuff. Sadly, he hadn't had the time to pick up anything to eat, so he was dissappointed to see he had nothing there. He wondered why in hell he ever took Malfoy up on the offer he was given. His mind then traveled back to that day, not really because he needs to, but just to point out to you readers what the hell's goin' on, even though if you read the summary, you probably have a good idea, but we'll just ignore that and do this for the people who don't read the summary and think, "Oh, a link. Must press mouse button."

*flashback*

Harry sat at the Hogwarts' Gryffindor table with Ron and Hermione, talking about Voldemort and how he must die, how Snape's a bitch, and about Quidditch like they seem to do in every conversation, when an owl swooped down and delivered Harry a letter. Harry, not knowing who it was from (he ain't psychic, ya know), looked at the return address.

"Noway!" he exclaimed, "I got a letter from the Dursleys!" His two friends looked all astonished at the fact he would receive a letter from his caretakers, kind of forgetting to wonder why the hell they would send it by owl, which makes things easier for me because I don't want to explain (yes, love them loopholes). 

Anyway, Harry read the letter, his facial expression changing from quizzical to pissed. He then crumpled it up and threw it down. "Ah shit!"

"What's wrong Harry?" Hermione asked him. Harry shook his head and sighed.

"The Durleys kicked me out so they can use my room for some baby Dudley had with some chick from a one night stand."

Ron looked at him in shock. "Your cousin was actually able to get some?! That's so not fair!"

"It seems your cousin has a good idea. Maybe we should carry on in his footsteps," Hermione said while looking at Harry dreamily. Harry, though, had other things in mind, and popping out a baby wasn't one of them.

"Damn, now where am I gonna live?" Harry leaned back in his chair in ponderment (I made a new word), thinking of what he was going to do. It was around that time that he heard the familiar voice of Draco Malfoy behind him which he loathed oh so much, or possibly had a secret love for if you're a Draco/Harry fan (I'm giving you the choice, so pick one), so he turned around quickly to see why the Slytherin had come all the way over to the Gryffindor table.

Now, the first reason Draco had decided to go over there was because he was going to be busy with other things that day, so this was the only time he could squeeze in his daily 'piss off Potter' routine. Of course, once he had arrived, he overheard Harry's new situation in life, so he now had a new plan in mind.

"So we're homeless now, eh Potter?" Malfoy smiled happily to himself. "You know, I might have a solution for you?"

"What do you want Malfoy?" Harry asked coldly, not really wanting to admit he was now officially a homeless bum.

"You see, I might actually let you work at my mansion... IF you do something for me in return."

"Hey!" Ron verbally intruded, "Harry's can come live with me, so he doesn't have to do anything for you!"

"That's right," Harry pitched in.

Malfoy smiled evilly as he always does. "Yes, but Potter, the only problem with that is the Weasley's don't have enough money to feed you."

"What you talkin about? I can just take Percy's place, so it works!"

Ron found a quick new interest in his shoes. "Erm... Harry, I kind of just remembered. My dad's pay has been cut to go toward the 'Buy Fudge a Mansion in Tahiti' fund, so we're kind of... um... poorer than before by a lot."

"So you see, Potter," Malfoy continued, 'This is pretty much your only option."

"No!" Hermione squealed, "Harry, come live with me!"

The thought of living with Hermione popped into Harry's head. Him running away with Hermione chasing in whore garb and a whip. He shook the thought from his mind.

"Okay Malfoy, what do you want me to do?"

Malfoy face became a tad more malicious while Hermione plopped down looking pissed after the verbal bitch slap. 

"I'm glad you've made the right choice Potter. I'll let you live in our trailer across from the mansion if you'll mow the lawn daily, and act like our French maid, uniform and all." A smirk played across Malfoy's face as he imagined the possibilities.

Now, normally the answer would have been 'hell no,' but considering he needed a place to go and if he didn't accept, the plot in this fic would go nowhere, Harry decided to suck up his pride.

"Fine."

Ron, Hermione, and Draco all looked at him in astonishment. Not even Malfoy thought he would go along with him. Suddenly the world had become an amazingly awesome place.

*end flashback*

Harry had now lived in that trailer for a whole day, and it already sucked like hell. The day before, he had been introduced to the lawn he had to mow, which spanned for miles. It was pretty bad, having to walk for hours with a non electric mower while in a poofy maid's skirt. And he was quite mad because he had already acquired a rip in his stockings. As he was getting ready to go get changed into the dreaded uniform, there was a knock at the trailer door. It was around then that Harry wondered why the Malfoys had a trailer in the first place. Not that it really mattered. Harry then went to open the door to find none other than Ron.

"Hi Harry," Ron said not too happily. His head hung sadly as he was ushered into Harry's... 'house.' 

"What's wrong, and, more importantly, why are you here Ron?" Harry asked as he sat down on the floor, seeing as he didn't have any furniture as of yet.

Ron sighed. "My parents were getting low on money, so they got the bright idea of selling me for a couple Knuts so they could get a cup of coffee."

"Oh, so you're going to be living here too, huh?"

"Yep."

"Sucks for you." Harry leaned back, and fogetting there was nothing to support his back, fell over like an idiot. Ron just shook his head.

"So what do I have to do here anyway?"

"Mow the lawn."

"What lawn?"

"You know that large green thing that stretches out as far as the eye can see? That's the lawn."

"HOLY CRAP!!"

"Well, have fun. I gotta get changed and report to the house."

He got changed into the maid uniform, which made Ron laugh until he found out he'd have to wear the same thing, except his apron would be pink, not white. Harry then left for the mansion, which was a good ten mile walk, so about five hours later, two of which had been spent trying to dodge the security mechanisms that had been set up and he kept on accidentally tripping, and knocked on the door. He was greeted in by a house elf, and told that the master would be with him shortly.

And so Harry waited, looking at all the weirdo things lined up inside the house. Unlike the Black house which is described in book five (if you have not read book five, too bad) with all of the freaky heads on the walls, blood in vases, and the like, this house was much more... erotic. Oh, and no, for the people who didn't read book five, we still don't know what the Malfoy place looks like. I'm just describing how it SHOULD look (personal opinion).

The carpet was leopard print and the walls zebra striped with pictures of the baywatch (female) cast hanging on the wall on one end of the room. Harry thought this very odd as he had never seen pretty women. (In England, they are somewhat hard to find) Besides that though, why would they have such a picture hanging in their front hall. On another wall was a large mural, painted in bright colors of naked men playing leap frog. Harry noticed that all of them seemed to be white haired. Those men must have been Malfoys...but why were they naked...and playing leap frog? Off to his right, Harry noticed a slightly open door. Being the maid, he was going to have to know his way around anyway.

Inside the room were more pictures of leap frog and wrestling(all naked of course...grrrr). Harry looked around and saw a very unique writing desk. The top of the desk was padded and there seemed to be a few stains on it....probably from coffee spills. Above the desk on the ceiling was a mirror. Harry supposed this was for when Mr. Malfoy wanted to check his appearance but didn't want anyone to see him pull out a mirror....right? The desk legs were very arfully done with well endowed men holding up the desk with outstretched arms. Harry didn't know how comfortable he was going to feel dusting them. Looking around, he saw a matching cabinet to the side. He opened it out of curiosity and found a strange object. It was long and hard and shaped like a rocket or a mushroom or something like that, Harry wasn't too sure. He held it up and started trying to figure out what it was by feeling it and smelling it. It did seem to give off a peculiar odor but Harry could not quite register what it was. So, after some thought, Harry put down the smelly sculpture and turned around to find Draco standing there. 

"Have you been...entertaining yourself Potter?" A cruel smile spread across Malfoy's face.

"You wanted me to come to the house today, right? So what do you want?" Harry glared at Malfoy, pulling down his poofy skirt which was beginning to ride upward. 

"Simple. While you live here, you are to act as if you are my boyfriend."

"WHAT?!"

"Look, I have my reasons, so do try to make the best of it. Besides a must say I make much prettier company than the Granger girl."

"I don't have to comment on that so just shut up!" Harry began to get angrier, not wanting to admit that Malfoy was damn sexy, and he was quite jealous. *alternate sentence for Draco/Harry fans* -shut up!" Harry began to blush, not wanting to admit his secret longing for the ever sexy Malfoy boy.*end alternate sentence*

"Well then, now that you have been prompted, I will take you to meet my father, whom you are to act around as if I was your god whom you love deeply. Understand?"

"Er... you want me to go in a maid's outfit?"

"Believe me, I doubt that he'll care."

Draco led him through the halls and to the library where they were to meet the king pin of the Malfoy family, Lucius Malfoy.

Harry couldn't help wondering what the hell was going on. Maybe starving to death at the Weasleys' house would have been a happier option. It wasn't like he had been fed at this place yet anyway. 

They walked inside the library, which was filled with furniture and pictures that much resembled the ones in the previous rooms. In the middle of the room, someone sat in a large cushy chair, the back of which was facing them. The person sitting in the chair stood up and looked at Draco and Harry.

"Heellllloooo my dears!" Yes, it was Lucius Malfoy, but in a way Harry wouldn't have ever wanted to see him. He wore a tiger striped feather hat with peacock plooms; a thick, long, furry, pink coat; a lime green neck tie with bright purple stripes; and an elegantly styled, horridly lemon yellow evening dress with bright orange poke dots. Such a site was quite an eyesore, and Harry was practically positive he had never seen an outfit that clashed so badly. 

"Hey daddy," Draco said happily, "I'd like you to meet my new boyfriend Harry."


	2. Country is the Devil

Meanwhile, Ron was sitting in the middle of the vast green sea known as the Malfoy lawn. He had been mowing and mowing and mowing and friggin mowing some more. He looked back to where he had come from, and was able to make out the trailer as a tiny speck in the distance, and the Malfoy house about two inches tall. He then looked the opposite way, which still was pretty much nothing except more grass. Crap, these people could at least get trees or something. He just eyed all of the grass stretching out so very friggin far, it was intoxicating. Not even that blur half a mile away could compensate for all of the- wait, a blur?

Ron got up and toward the blur, which, as he got closer, looked more and more like a person. Once he got up to it, he wished he had just stayed where he had been. It was a person alright, who had been dead for lord knows how long, and only a skeleton remained... clutching it's nonelectric mower in it's hands where it lay.

Well, now seeing what fate had in store for him, Ron wondered if it would be in his better interest to start walking back, and just say he took care of it. Then again, he knew the Malfoys would Crutio him to death, so with a heavy heart, he got his mower, and continued on his long, devastating trek of the Malfoy backyard.

-*-

Back at the Malfoy mansion, Harry gulped as Draco's father eyed him up and down. Finally, he spoke.

"Draco, honey bee, this one is simply mmmaaarrrvelous. I dare say that his outfit is to die for in those kinky master/slave relationships, which are always splendid. Yes, he is quite the catch of the day. I was planning to put you into a nice little bundle of love with those Crabbe and Goyle boys, but this one just makes you just want to take Charles Atlas by the hand. Now then, I'm sure you two will want to run off to one of the bedrooms. As they say, kug first, talk later. Besides, I have some rather urgent business to attend to."

As Mr. Malfoy said this, Harry noticed another one of those smelly sculptures laying on the seat where Lucius had got up. Considering he had known of other people who wore strange things and surrounded themselves with weird smelling things, maybe Mr. Malfoy was a psychic of some type perhaps?

He and Draco left the room shortly and were heading who knows where. Harry, though not the sharpest tool in the shed, had picked up on at least one thing about Draco's father. He felt that the younger Malfoy should know, it would be dreadfully awful to leave him in the dark about such things. Harry, being the nice guy that he is, decided to break it gently to him.

"Draco," Harry said, "Your dad is SERIOUSLY gay. I thought you should find out now then be shocked later."

Draco stopped and just looked at him. "No, you're kidding.... No shit he's gay! You'd have to be a retard to not figure that one dumbass."

".... oh..."

"Anyway, I'm going to-"

"If he's gay, then where did you come from?"

"I... I don't know actually..." Draco stood there and pondered the thought for a moment. "Well, I know my mom's my mom, but my dad, I'm not too certain."

"Oh Draco, you're such a tease!" A ladies voice sounded from behind them. There stood a middle aged blonde woman, dressed like a scantily clad whore. Of course, Harry not being used to such things in general, immediately got a stiffy, and wished that he could get rid of those terribly tight tights.

"Hello mother," Draco said as if he were talking to your average bimbo, "This is Harry. He's the new lawn mower person."

"Mmm, oh I see," she began to finger Harry's chest, "That's too bad. We get so many of those, but they all seem to disappear. I wonder where they went..." She seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, but then returned to what she was saying, her voice as ho-like as you can imagine. "I have to say, you're rather cute and would make an excellent... companion... but I'm afraid Draco is much more...." She began to laugh quietly, as if laughing at what she was about to say.

"Um, ma'am," Harry said hesitantly, "You and you're son, er, aren't doing bad things, are you?"

"Oh no," she reassured him, "We have a perfectly healthy mother son relationship. You know, talking about problems, going to my son's quidditch games, having dirty sex, everything any average wizarding family does."

"Mom, it's so funny," Draco said with an amused tone in his voice, "Where Harry's from, they think that sleeping around like cats in heat is bad."

"A bit of a good boy, aren't we?" Her hands were back on Harry and traveling in a downward fashion, "I think it's time to give you some terrible thrills. It's too bad I was about meet up with Mrs. Goyle. We're planning to have some awful fun with raping her son and all. Well, Draco, remember, don't take it slow. Rip him, baby! Rip him good!" She then sauntered off, laughing to herself about whatever it was she was thinking. Harry sure that, whatever it was, he was certain it wasn't good. And what had she been referring to Draco about at the end of what she was saying with taking things slow and ripping? Speaking of Draco, him and his momma?! No, it had to be a joke; just some dirty joke. They wouldn't be really knocking boots... would they? 

Harry shook the thought from his mind. That was just sick, and he couldn't imagine anyone wanting to picture Draco doing that in their minds. *alternate sentence* That was just sick, he couldn't imagine Draco fucking anyone crazy other than his own bad self. *end alternate sentence* He decided to put the whole situation behind him and started to focus on wherever it was Draco was leading him. 

"Where are we going?" Harry asked as he looked at many paintings on the walls. By golly, would he know his anatomy when he got out of there! 

"We're almost there now." Draco led him through a few more corridors and hallways until they reached a door, which led to a room. Nope, it wasn't one of them doors that's just there for scenery, no sirry, it actually WENT someplace! Harry looked at the door in awe, more or less so that the paragraph could be elongated.

Draco led Harry through the spiffy door and into the room it connected to. There was a large bed with black satin sheets, an oak desk at the opposite wall, a huge cushy shair in the right hand corner, and a bookshelf with many books that were very dusty, but looked as if they had never been opened.

"Well then," Draco said, closing the door behind them, "I'm in the mood so let's get it on!"

"NNNNOOOOO!!!!" *alternate* "WELL IT'S ABOUT TIME!!!!"*end alternate*

-*-

It was somewhere in the middle of the afternoon, and Ron had mowed more than he had ever mowed before The trailer was definatley out of site now, and the mansion looked ever so tiny. He wasn't sure if he could go on. No, he would prevail! He would make it to the end of the stretch... sure, the end was yet to come into site, but that was besides the point! It couldn'tgo on forever you know... could it? Ron pondered these thoughts as he kept up his pace, but with the hot sun beating down on his black dress and frilly pink apron, the conditions seemed to be getting unbearable. Finally, after overheating, over exhaustion, over dehydration, over mowingness, and over overness, Ron fell to the ground unconscious.

When he woke up, he found himself in a comfy bed, in a room that closely resembled a large gardening shed. There were rakes and hos hung up on the walls, a desk made out of shovels, and pictures of mowers all over the place. Where the hell was he?!

"Oh you're finally awake," a man's voice said from the other side of the room. Ron turned quickly to see none other than the familiar figure of ex Professor Lupin.

"Professor Lupin?! What are you doing here?!" 

Lupin looked down at his feet, looking almost ashamed to address the issue. But, feeling that he owed Ron an explanation and knowing that if it isn't explained, it'll produce many huffy readers, he answered the question.

"Well, you see, after I did that whole werewolf thing in book three and ran off, I thought, 'crap, I don't have a job, hence no money to buy food,' so I kinda took up a job here as a mower, got lost on the lawn, found a new civilization on it, and have been living here ever since."

"But..." Ron looked puzzled, "How's that possible if you showed up again in book five?"

"...Rowlings was lying."

"How can she be lying? She's the one writing the books!"

"She is because... er... I say so, so shut up."

Ron just shrugged. "Anyway, why are you wearing overalls? Aren't they muggle clothing?"

"It just so happens that they are the native outfit of the Malfinia people."

"Okay, let me get this strait. The Malfoy's have a lawn, and on this big ass lawn they have other villages?!"

Lupin shook his head. "No no no no no. It's more like there are several warring nations on the Malfoy's lawn... for some strange reason, though, I don't think that the Malfoys even know about it, even though I can't blame them. After all, no one here has ever seen the end to the grass, so for all we know there could be a totally different species living at the end of it."

"How far are we from the Malfoy house anyway?"

"A good seventy miles or so, why?"

"SEVENTY MILES??!!!"

"Yeah, it just so happened that the navigation crew was out on their tractor-mobiles, and they found you fifty miles away from here, so they brought you back with them."

Ron sat back in his bed. He never knew the Malfoys had such an interesting backyard. He just hoped Harry wouldn't worry or anything when he went back to the trailer and found him missing.

-*-

Draco looked at Harry curiously. What was wrong with him? Not that it really mattered. He then walked over to his magical boom box (original, I know), planning to turn on some music for the occasion.

Harry huddled in a corner, not really wanting the music to be turned on, knowing usually what happened afterwards. Why was this happening to him? What had he done to deserve this? Any second now, Daido would be playing and the Malfoy boy would be on him in seconds. There had to be a way out of this mess.

(yes, what you've all been waiting for)*alternate paragraph*

Harry looked indignantly at Draco as he headed for the magical boom box. Screw the music, he wanted to get laid now! It isn't exactly rocket science, ya know. He had only dreamed and masturbated about this ever since he was ten, and the only props necessary was a whip, pair of handcuff, and the occasional accompaniment of whip cream and sprinkles. 

*end alternate paragraph*

Suddenly, a horrible, terrible noise entered Harry's ears. He had never heard such awful music in his life. Yes, if it isn't obvious, Draco had turned on the cursed country channel!!! 

"Isn't this stuff great?" Draco said while trying to dance very badly to the satanic refrain of Garth Brooks. "Oh yes! Love this shit!"

Harry's eyes widened out of fright. This was just too friggin scary dude! What's worse was that Draco couldn't dance for shit, so he looked like some nerdy white boy attempting to 'get in the beat' with... country... Need I say more?

"Um, Draco," Harry edged towards the door, "I think I'm gonna go help Ron mow or something, okay?"

"Oh come on! Dance with me!"

"NO!" 

"It'll be fun!"

"I'd rather be stuck in bed with your mother!" Harry then thought it over a bit and realized that such a thing really wouldn't be all that bad, but then focused back on the present situation.

"Fine then," Draco looked at him maliciously while a loud 'WHOOIE' sounded in the background, "it's time for me to get out... the banjo!"

"NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


	3. Inscessant Music

Innumerable inbred songs later, Harry lay on the bed feeling overwhelmed and confused while Draco continued to play his banjo and sing like a redneck in swampland. Then, out of nowhere, the incessant noise stopped. Harry sat bolt upright in surprise, not used to the silence.

" Why'd you stop playing?" he asked, truly curious. Draco just beamed.

" Well, I know that you loved my playing, most people do, but I can't play all my songs in one sitting or there won't be any more surprises for later."

Harry stared at the albino in disbelief. After nearly twelve hours of terrifying, mind shattering crap, he still had not made a dent in the amount of Draco's horrific, HIV infested music. 

" Then, why did you stop?" Harry asked again, wondering what could have possessed his horny host to stop the _horra _(there's a George Dubbleya quote for ya! yay!...unless you're a democrat) 

"Simple," said Draco as a large flat screen tv descended from the ceiling. Harry's knees quaked with fear. Draco was going to make him watch dirty videos!!!!!

" I simply can't help watching every day. Otherwise, I feel quite...unsatisfied" Harry gulped and sat waiting with anticipation. Draco flipped the TV on and on the screen appeared a girl being reamed by an elderly old man. Harry nearly barfed up the nonexistent food in his stomach (we don't really feed characters, do we?) and then scolded his other brain for being so hard headed....haha.....we'll see if you get that one! 

"OOps," said Draco, flipping the channel, "Looks like Mom's been borrowing the TV again. I don't mind, really, I mean she usually picks some awesome movies but I prefer to have my things left to their normal settings. Aww, here we are."

On the screen was none other than Carson Daily of MTV's TRL announcing the number one song of the day "Give me a reason....not to rape you" by Justin Timberlake. 

" I just love Justin Timberlake, he's totally hot. His music sucks my balls but if you put the TV on mute you can get really turned on just watching him dance around in those tight leather pants...grrrr. He's my inspiration in fashion and dance...not women. I was quite ashamed when he turned to that Britney tramp but he's found the correct path with Michael Jackson and appears as homosexual as can be, thank goodness." Draco sighed, " If only Justin could have saved the rest of NSYNC from their sexual orientation."

" What, they're straight?"

"No, they gave up and only succeeded halfway, they're bi"

" How awful for you"

" Yes, I know. BTW, you need to eat more."

" Why's that?"

" Cuz you're a scrawny little faggot! *alt sentence* I need more cushion for the pushin'...baybee! *end alt sentence*

-*-

"So," said Ron as two elderly mowers led him to the dining shed for dinner. " How long have you been here?"

"grunt grunt" 

"Oh....that's nice!" Lupin walked up to Ron at that moment. "Don't bother trying to talk to them. Being out in the sun for so many years has addled their brains and made them forget their original language. Because of insanity, and the fact that they're too lazy to sound words out properly, they have developed their own language of grunts and groans much like American men during Sunday football games."

"I see..." Ron made mental note of this as he entered the large shed, filled with many lawn tables and rake chairs. It seemed everyone there wore the same type of overalls, which he, also was wearing, not that he could complain because overalls beat out a French maid outfit anyday. He and Lupin sat at one of the lawn tables, waiting to be served.

"So, Professor Lupin, is there anyway to get off the Malfoy lawn and, I don't know, home maybe?"

Lupin laughed shakily. "Er... actually no."

"What?!"

"Okay, as you know, it's easy enough to get on the lawn, but getting off is an entirely different matter. You can't go out past the Malfoy manner because of all the safety mechanisms that'll probably kill you on the way. So the only other option is to go to the city of Malfonishia, which has the only flu powder network open on the lawn. To get there, you must go through other towns and villages, some of which aren't to friendly with us Malfinia folk. Also, you also got to watch out for the lawn mafia that operates on different random parts on the lawn. All in all, chances are you'll die trying to go back to your average society."

"Then why don't you guys just apparate off?"

"It's because we... uh, er, um, eh..." Lupin looked up at the ceiling, totally bamboozled, "It.... It's just not done." Lupin nodded his head, knowing he had made the right decision that made no sense what so ever. "Now never mind all that. Anyway, I'm sure you'll get used to it here, raise a happy mowing family, and everything will be fine. Oh, and the good news for today is the special on the menu is gopher on a stick! Who'd want to miss that?!"

".... I wanna go home... or to the trailer. Either works." Ron collapsed his head onto the table, sobbing at the thought that it would be a long time before he would be somewhere other than this disturbing backyard.

-*-

Harry shuddered where he sat, even more freaked out than he had been before. On the screen was a muted Justin Timberlake doing many dance moves and such, and then there was a Draco Malfoy standing in front of it, singing his own personally written swamp songs and trying to dance like Justin... but was even worse. All of the audio and visual was enough to drive a person insane. Harry wished he could just be back in the freaky office with Lucius Malfoy than be here... then thought it over, realized that if he were in that office, he would have been raped up the ass fifty times by now, and looked for a better solution on where he'd want to be. Draco's mom's room, now that would be sweet! Harry could imagine it now, him and Mrs. Malfoy in a bed full of canned peaches, and he'd be scrubbing her back with nummy whipped cream.

It was in the middle of one of Draco's drastically bad break dance moves that Lucius Malfoy strode into the room.

"Oh Draco! I knew I'd find you he- GOOD GOD! WHAT IS THAT DISPLAY?!" Mr Malfoy looked in disgust at the television screen. "I cannot believe that you'd be watching this horrid filth!" He then flipped the channel to some guy shoving a dildo up a cow's ass. "There, now THAT'S quality television." He focused his attention back on Draco and an ever mortified Harry.

"Now, my dears, it's the sixth day of the sixth month, meaning it is time to hold the ceremony as we do every year."

"Oh," Draco beamed happily, "And Harry can join too?"

"Yes, he can be a prop of some sort."

"Oh good!"

Harry gulped. "But surely you wouldn't want ME in YOUR family celebration!"

Lucius waved his hand in a dainty manner. "Oh don't be silly, my dear. The more the merrier, as some bimbo used to say."

"B-but"

"Now now! I know it's quite an honour, which must have taken you aback, but I assure you that you will be more than needed for certain... actions... Be ready by 6:00 tonight, my darlings! Toodooloo!" Lucius Malfoy then sauntered out of the room. Draco seemed to be more then anticipated about the night's events, but Harry felt his stomach reaching around his spine. He did not want to know what the ceremony would entitle, but sooner or later, he would inevitably find out.


	4. The Malfoy Traditional Ritual

After dinner, Ron was led back to Lupin's tool shed, where he would be staying till he either married into a good mowing family, or got picked off in a water mining incident. Ron lay on the bed, looking up at the green ceiling, the paint of which was beginning to chip, and sighed deeply. What he'd give to be able to go to Hogwarts, a bar, or even back to those unworthy people who spawned and sold him. Would he ever get out of this place?

Lupin sat on the edge of his bed, and look down happily at the lad. "I know what you're thinking, but don't worry. Tomorrow everything's going to be better."

"Why? What's happening tomorrow?"

"We're going prairie dog hunting!"

Ron curled into a ball and faced the opposite direction. He didn't want to think that for the rest of his life, he'd have to eat rodents and grass. It'd be nice to just have some nummy piece of bread or steak and kidney pie, or some other delicious type of British food (if there is such a type). Lupin took notice of Ron's mannerisms, and was completely perplexed.

"Is there something wrong?"

"… No. There's nothing wrong. I've only been damned to a living hell hole where the food is worse than what I normally eat, with a society based on gardening tools, and the greatest enjoyment there is would be hunting for dinner."

Lupin shook his head and brought his head down to Ron's ear and whispered, "I love you, ya know?"

Ron jumped. "WHAT?!"

Lupin laughed. "Hah! I knew that would get you in a better mood! Just had to give you a jump start. Nah, actually I've got this thing for this one girl with the Clipper family-her name's Gertrude- and I'm thinking about possibly courting her. And that body, what a piece! Here, let me show you a picture!"

Now, how they were able to produce pictures, even I don't know, but somehow it happened. Ron, though, was not too impressed. 

"… Lupin…"

"Yeah, she's a real looker, ain't she?"

"Is it a man or a woman?"

Lupin glared at Ron. "She's the best looking girl in town, I'll have you know, and she's taken a real fancy to me."

"I hate to say this, but being stuck in this town for so long has made you forget what REAL hot chicks look like." He then proceeded in taking out a candid shot he had been able to get in his fourth year at Hogwarts of Fleur De'Claire in the shower.

Lupin stared at the picture for a terribly long time, and finally began to sob. "I… couldn't remember. It's been too long… much too long…" The ex Defense of the Dark Arts teacher fell to his knees in a burst of tears. 

Ron patted him on his back. "There, there. It's okay. Why not try to escape from the lawn and get back to normal England where the booze is great and the food is good, er… well, better…"

Lupin looked up at Ron with watery eyes. "Yes… yes, let's do it! Let's go back to where the women are worth looking at and they get prettier just by drinking!"

"That's the spirit!"

Lupin and Ron then began to plot the many ways they might be able to leave this awful place, and go back to their world of dreams. *alternate Ron/Lupin sentence* Lupin and Ron then began to make out, followed by explicit sex, for that is how crappy romance fics are made. *end alternate sentence*

-*-

Harry sat on the couch pensively, wondering what could be in store for him. What if the whole Malfoy family forced themselves on him, and he was turned into some kinky sex slave? Or, what if they were going to force him to watch them get into action? Why, considering the settings, what if they put a few barnyard animals into the scene? The more Harry thought about it, the worse the images got. By the time a house elf 'ahemed,' Harry was stuck in a thought having to do with himself, three Malfoys, a rooster, and a spotted pig.

"Sir," the house elf squeaked, "The Malfoy Traditional Ritual is about to begin. Please sit where you are, and do not speak unless spoken to."

Harry nodded as the lights dimmed, and stage lights lit the walls and a section of the floor ten feet from where he sat. After some more awful banjo music playing from lord knows where, Lucius Malfoy came sauntering down the steps in a large tuquoise fur coat, lime green ball gown underneath, with a spotted pocket protector, and a lacy hot pink tie. He adjusted his plumed hat as he stepped, as if trying to do a seductive model pose, which was far from seductive considering how he loved his clashing outfits.

_"As of days of old _

How Malfoy stood so bold

As he strummed his courageous toon.

And now it begins

Once again

A new legacy is to unfold."

Harry just sat there looking more frightened then he had the whole night. Crap, starting the evening with poofs and poetry could not be a good sign.

Now, from the right hand staircase, Narcissa Malfoy walked down the steps, and it amazed Harry that she didn't trip in those six inch stilettos. What she wore, in Harry's eyes, was much more appealing. She wore and tight, revealing Teddy with crimson hinting, and high fishnet stockings, kept up by guarders. As she made her way down, she, too, had her piece to say.

_"With this new generation_

I give to you

True beauty unlocked

For the one traditionally clad

Coming from heaven

Just a lad

To him except the invitation."

Mr. And Mrs. Malfoy stood next to the staircases they had descended from, looking to the center between them. Harry gazed there as well, and suddenly made sense of some of the pure and utter crap they had just spouted. There seemed to be a decent sized hole in the ceiling, and from it was descending Draco Malfoy, which must have symbolized their 'lad from heaven' and, whooie, was the traditional garb a sight!

Harry looked at the slowly falling boy (obviously being lowered with piano wire) and his clothing in horror. He wore red flannel pants, the waist of which came up to just below the chest, and were held up the rest of the way with suspenders. He has a long sleeved blinding orange dress shirt, large geek glasses, high socks that rode over the pants up to the knees, and cow pokey shoes. Between Draco and his father, Harry could not decide which one looked worse, that is till he looked back at Lucius… now that was just scary.

Now, with all of the pre imagining of how this whole performance was going to be, Harry could not have ever expected things too be this horrendous, for the house elf had just announced that Master Malfoy would now be performing the traditional Malfoy dance.

Draco began with rising his right hand slowly in the air while looking to the right side, getting into a much resembled ballet pose. Then the evils ran rampant. Yes, country guitars, kazoos, banjos, and washboards played in full volume as Draco began to do a one person square dance, followed by a solo polka, and then doing a bad reenactment of River Dance.

Finally, Draco did a pigeon toed hop step thing over to where Harry sat, and stretched out his hand as if inviting him to dance. '_To him except the invitation."_Hoo crap, had Harry been there at the wrong time! He took notice of threatening stared of Draco's ever watchful parents, pulling what seemed to be weapon from different parts of their clothing, so Harry thought I best to amuse them.

Draco led him to the dance floor, as it were, and took him into a tango position. Now how you're supposed to do the Tango with swamp music, I haven't the slightest, but that's how things were in this household. After many awfully strummed out lines and painful foot-stepped-on situations later, it was time to do… Country Disco!

No need to get into explanations there, for just the thought itself is disturbing. Harry tried to keep up the pace, flinging his index finger every which way, but to no avail for Draco was much faster and exuberant than he. Sure, he couldn't dance for shit, but he sure did put a hell lot of effort into it.

Finally, the dancing was over, and Harry was able to plop back onto the couch, feeling quite exhausted and scared. It seemed that Draco was making his way over to him, a rather randy look on his face, but was cut off by his mother, who got to Harry first.

"Harry, I would like you to escort me to my room," she said as a smile flicked across her lips. It seemed that things were now looking up. He and Draco's mom going to her room for who knows what… ALONE!!! Harry brightened up as he just thought of the possibilities. Maybe that bed full of peaches and cream was closer than he had thought! 

*alternate paragraph* It seemed things were getting even worse than he had imagined! He wanted to go to Draco's room, not some bimbo's who looked more than willing to give him many sexual favors! Wait… hold up… favors? Maybe if they could have a Harry/Draco/Draco's Mom threesome, then maybe things wouldn't be so horrible after all!

Mrs. Malfoy led Harry out of the room and down the corridors and to a double door entrance.

"This is my room. I would like you to now go inside and make yourself… comfortable…"

Sorry bout taking so long to get another chapter up. I was out of inspiration for a while, and needed to wait till I got some ideas back. Don't worry, I plan on having the next one up a hell lot quicker (considering I'm going to start work on it right after I'm done with this paragraph). Anywho, review, tell me what you think, and come back when the next one's up!


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